


Games and Gangs

by secretagentfan



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 04:41:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17891678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secretagentfan/pseuds/secretagentfan
Summary: Kong organizes his thoughts on the Big Shit, the Important Shit, Ash's fancy new digs, and love.They also play a lot of Uno.





	Games and Gangs

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for @VASaquafoxx on twitter for the BananaValentine2019 exchange! 
> 
> I'm sorry it took me so long, your prompts were so good it took me longer than I thought.
> 
> Special thanks to Wickedlupin for looking this fic over so many times!

**Prologue—America’s Greatest**

     The word “gang” used to make Kong nervous. It felt like he was a part of something dangerous when he just needed a place that would keep him from getting arrested for no reason or stabbed in his sleep. Then he shot his first man in a turf battle literally no one asked for, cried himself to sleep on Bones’s shoulder, and realized, oh, sounding dangerous was probably the fucking point.

     Maybe then this shit would happen less.

     The way Kong saw it, the boys joined together because of lacks. A lack of money, of support, of brains, of good old-fashioned values, or parental guidance. They were grand failures of the American Dream, a collection of broken pieces and half-finished sides that shoved together to stay warm at night and, well, kinda fit.

     Being a Gang kept them from being Losers. And being _the Boss’s_ gang, kept them alive.

     Then Eiji appeared, and they got real good at Uno.

     But Kong’s getting ahead of himself. Rewind.

**The Main Boys**

     First, some set up. Roll call:

          -Kong. Himself. Observant. Used to get nervous stomachaches at night until he started keeping track of things, like this, in his head. Got organized. Feels better now.

          -Bones. All heart. Kong’s best friend. Told Kong once he got tired of sleeping behind a dumpster and that was why he joined up. Kong’s pretty sure that’s not the full deal though because the Boss accidentally clocked Bone’s teeth out and he stuck around, meaning _that_ was still better than what Bones was getting anywhere else, and last time Kong checked, dumpsters didn’t cause you bodily harm.

          -Alex. Everyone’s confidant. Keeps the best and most secrets. Has known the Boss since forever. Alex knew how to hold a gun before he was walking properly, so, he was probably one of those “lost causes” shopping moms with carts full of vitamin water always talk about.

          -Skipper. Was a kid, bright and happy but self-aware enough to know where he was headed with his grades and his track record. His death really started the Big Shit. Kong misses him. Everyone does.

          -The Boss. Ash Lynx.

          -Eiji. …More on that later.

**The Big Shit**

     It wasn’t like they were a small gang. They had numbers, lots of ‘em; the Boss gathered people to him like he was the light on a bug zapper. There were too many for Kong to personally keep note of, but he knew Ash and Alex knew everyone. They were a big gang, big news with big allies and bigger enemies.

     They had allies in Chinatown, Shorter Wong: a good guy who looked after his boys, couldn’t make lo mein for shit, and usually disappeared when stuff got too shady because he had a sister to stay alive for. He died too.

     They also had enemies. Small fry like Arthur: a bitter coward who had probably never rubbed anyone the right way in his entire life and large fry like the Corsican and Chinese _mafia_.

     All of it’s a mess. Kong doesn’t like to think about it. No one does. Not without hurting.

**The Important Shit**

     The thing was, the Boss wasn’t okay. He was a superhuman, sure. He could fire a gun with his eyes shut and destroy an army with a pistol, but he also wasn’t _okay_.

     Everyone who had ever been around when the Boss napped in the other room had heard him scream. Screaming was old news; it was part of the reason no one ever wanted to wake him up. The Boss shouted a lot in his sleep because he was carrying a lot, and that was even before Skip and Shorter died. And sure, hearing the boss scream over the shit he’s seen and done while being sectioned away from everyone else did something to Kong’s heartstrings—

     But it wasn’t like Kong or even the gang could do anything about that. The Boss was the Boss. The gang was a _gang_. Kong could cry about his missing mom as much as he wanted in the middle of the night—but if he heard _the Boss_ do that, on purpose?

     Well, it just wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t ever happen.

     And now, well, now things were worse. Kong didn’t even know what the Boss was carrying now, but he knew for sure it was a hell of a lot heavier than his mom walking out on him.

**The Apartment**

     There was also the Boss’s weird new apartment in downtown Manhattan— everyone was talking about it, even Alex who usually told everyone to keep involved in their own business. Kong had no idea where the Boss got the money for the place, but he didn’t ask questions. Bones did, and the Boss just looked at him, and that was the end of that particular conversation.

     Then Eiji had come out of the bathroom and the Boss was telling them they were gonna be his bodyguards sometimes because he wasn’t moving to the apartment _alone_ apparently.

      “Sure thing boss,” Kong managed to squeak out. He elbowed Bones so his mouth shut properly.

**Eiji**

     The first thing Kong noticed about Eiji was the first thing everyone noticed about Eiji—he didn’t belong here.

     It wasn’t for a lack of balls. Eiji had balls. Huge balls. Startling balls. He stuck around after Skip died in front of him and talked to the boss like it was no big deal— acted like they were friends, got him out of _bed_ , and made the gang dinner like the weird patriarch none of them ever had.

     Eiji’s balls were above reproach.

     The big problem, Kong figured, was that Eiji wasn’t _missing_ anything. There was no lack. He seemed to have money, a home—he definitely had this reporter guy watching his every step with parental fondness, which was more than any of the gang had.

     Eiji didn’t _need_ a gang, but the Boss let him in anyway. He bought him an apartment.

      It felt weird, almost sacrilegious to think something so clearly different from the Boss’s intentions, but who struck around with would-be losers in _danger_ that didn’t need to? Eiji wouldn’t last.

     Why was the Boss keeping him around?

**The Important Shit (part 2)**

     Problem was, the Boss was looking good, and it wasn’t just because of the pricey new duds he was sporting. Bones was sure to whisper to Kong that the Boss’s usual “don’t talk to me” forehead crease had mysteriously vanished, and as a result he almost looked approachable. He still wasn’t.

     The cause for the Boss’s odd glowing comfort was a mystery until Kong finished a late-night discussion—all their discussions now considering the whole “laying low from the mafia” thing—and was invited by a not-happy-to-be-awoken Eiji to crash on their expensive-ass couch.

     Never one to turn down a couch, especially one big enough to fit him, Kong took him up on the deal.

     Eiji puttered on back to the bedroom, leaving the door open wide for the Boss to follow behind him. Kong recognized the sounds of Eiji climbing in bed, both nervous and amused by how loud he was just doing regular things, when he noticed the Boss lingering in the doorway.

     Kong could only see him in profile, but he wore an expression Kong had never seen before on his face. The only comparable expression he had seen was the one Skipper would make while looking through the window of a 5th Avenue bakery during the winter. Longing: pure and unabashed.  

     It hit Kong all at once. This wasn’t the boss. This was _Ash_ , and Ash looked…fragile.

     Ash shut the door behind him. Kong swallowed, suddenly very, very afraid for the gang.         

**The Facts:**

          -The Boss was keeping Eiji cooped up in the apartment the majority of the day like a vampire.

          -Eiji wasn’t happy. He couldn’t be, regardless of his smiles and general aura of monk-like calm.

          -It was only a matter of time before Eiji would get tired, realize the situation was shit and ollie out.

          -The Ash that Kong saw that night wouldn’t be able to handle that, and the gang needed him. Everyone did, at this point.

          -Unless they found a way to make Eiji happy, the gang would be sunk.

          -The only people who were interested in being at home all the time were housewives and children.

          -Housewives and children loved board games.

          -Kong had a plan.

          -Bones would help.

    And thus began…

**Game Night**

     They tried Mahjong first. They borrowed the tiles from Sing, wanting Eiji to feel more at home, but then Eiji explained that Mahjong was definitely Chinese in origin, not Japanese. He didn’t know how to play. Kong then tried to explain, but then realized he didn’t know how to play either. Bones took over and made up several rules and they all tried to play with those but they kept contradicting themselves and—Mahjong was out.

     Bones brought cards but was missing half of them and those that were present smelled like ass, so they wound up making him throw them out in the dumpster _outside_ the building.

     In what was probably a last effort to save the night, Eiji fished out an old egg carton and dried beans, and tried to get Bones and Kong to play mancala. It was actually pretty fun until they realized that it was two players only and they had been excluding Eiji the whole time. Not the point! Eiji assured them he didn’t mind and that he was having fun watching them play—but Bones finally exploded.

      “Just admit when you’re not having fun, Eiji!”

     He was right: it had been a rotten night, but the way Eiji blinked and stared at him would make it seem the opposite.

     After a moment, Eiji declared, almost apologetically: “I do not think I am having fun now.”

     The silence following Eiji’s quiet comment was fucking _mountainous_. Kong started picking up the dried beans that had been knocked over during mancala and Bones and Eiji joined in, if only to be unified in the same activity again.

     Game night was a dismal failure. 

**The Fallout**

     Bones and Kong were pretty sure their days were numbered, but the next time they saw the Boss he stopped in the middle of his “watch your backs” speech to tell them both: “Eiji says thanks for the other night. He had a good time”.

Neither Bones or Kong made any move to correct him. 

**Uno**

     It was a trade from one of the younger members. Kong hadn’t said three words to the guy before—he had a stealing problem and guys like that rarely stuck around—but he sat outside the hideout with his little store: ready to peddle his stolen goods for cigarettes like they were in jail or something.

     The game was still in the packaging so it definitely had all the pieces; the red box was pristine, shiny even.

     Kong thought of Eiji and the Boss. He said fuck it.

**Game Night (Part 2)**

     The Boss was apparently set for a late night at the library, and that was all the invite they needed from Eiji to come and show their newly formed skills.

     They wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. They came prepared: double-checked all the cards to make sure they were there and actually read the instructions— even practiced on Alex on how to explain them nice and slow to Eiji, in a way that wouldn’t confuse him. They were pretty good at it now. Alex told them that when they each explained individually, he understood about half of the game, so as a team they’d be perfect.

      “Uno! I have played this before.”

     Eiji beamed when he saw the box. Kong exhaled. Well that was one less thing.

     They set up the game, sitting on pillows on the floor, instead of the couch, which was weird, but oddly home-y. As home-y as the Boss’s apartment got anyway.

     Eiji was merciless. Their first round was unfortunate, with Kong and Eiji both teaming up against Bones, skipping his turn as often as possible. Kong felt bad after Bones got skipped the third time in a row, and started playing sympathetically—just in time for Eiji to turn on _him_. Balls.

     It was less of a game and more a public execution, which was embarrassing, considering all the practice Kong and Bones did with Alex, but Eiji was smiling holding out his cardless hands like it really mattered. Kong felt oddly…rewarded.

      “Another round?” Eiji asked. Bones groaned, but Kong had already started dealing the cards.

     It wasn’t long before they got comfortable enough to talk.

      “You got family, Eiji?” Kong found himself asking while Bones was staring hard at the instructions, making sure Eiji wasn’t making up rules to win.

      “Yeah. I have a Mom and Dad, and a little sister in Japan.”

      “Huh,” Kong replied, no richer in answers.

     Bones huffed, folding the instructions up and regretfully drawing two cards. It was Kong’s turn now.

      “What about you?” Eiji asked.

     He felt Bones tense up next to him, clearly not wanting this question to pass to him as well. Kong just shrugged, laid down a red card. Bones shot him a look before answering:

      “None of us really do.”

      “Oh.” Eiji looked at them both for a moment. “You have each other though. That is family.”

     Bones blinked, once, twice, and then pretended to look real hard at his cards. Kong smiled a little, trying to play it cool over the weird bit of pride dancing in his gut.

      “Guess so.”

     They played into the night. Eiji eventually got sloppy, letting Kong steal a few rounds. It was fun. Kong couldn’t remember the last time he had fun like this, and Kong had never been very good at forgetting. Even Bones was enjoying himself, now that he’d stop trying to win and was now focusing on making everyone else _lose_ , like a toothless vengeful dragon.

     Kong felt like a kid again, even though he was pretty sure he never was one.

     Then the Boss walked in, and with him, the rest of the world. Kong stood up automatically, Bones dropped a few cards. Eiji stayed sitting.

     He was leaning against the door, and at first Kong thought he was injured, but then he yawned, and oh, that was so much worse.

      “Tired, Ash?” Eiji asked, like he wasn’t interacting with a half-asleep potentially lethal criminal.

      “Mngh.”

     Ash stumbled past them, Kong’s eyes following him all the way to the bedroom. He stopped in front of the open door. His hands fumbled at his coat as he half-heartedly chucked it on the floor.

      “Hey!” Eiji stood, picking up the coat. The Boss looked at him a second. Rubbed his neck when Eiji held it out to him, and to Kong’s utter bafflement, hung it on the back of a chair.

      “What are you doing?” the Boss asked, eyes scanning the room, finally noticing Kong and Bones. Bones waved. Kong nodded.

      “Playing Uno! Would you like to join us?”

     Ash stared blankly at them, or rather somewhere between Kong’s left pec and chest.  
      “I’ll pass.”

     Kong nodded. Duh. Of course he wasn’t—

      “Maybe next time.”

     His voice was soft. Ash again. Eiji smiled, giving him a small push into the bedroom.

      “Get some rest. It looks like you need it!”

     Ash waved his hand, and shut the bedroom door behind him.

     Eiji’s smiled faded, eyes on the door. Kong had seen this expression before. It was different from Ash’s—but it came from the same place. Eiji looked back at them, shaking his head quickly.

      “Sorry, it is my turn, right?”

**Getting Organized**

     Thoughts usually arrived in fragments and connected pieces that layered together disjointedly like a photograph developing; like a gang.

     The sights of Eiji and Ash looking at the same shut bedroom door, and even of Bones surrounded by a forgotten game of Uno made Kong’s heart want to reach out and fill the spaces and holes in all of them. He wondered if he was looking at everything all wrong. Wondered if his view of the gang being made up of lacks was closeminded: dark.

     Kong thought about love, for the first time since he shot that man—no, _kid_ and cried himself to sleep.

     This was why Ash wanted Eiji in his house even though he could barely go outside. This was why Eiji could bear living like a vampire, away from everyone else, in a country he didn’t know. This was why Alex listened to Bones and Kong explain how to play Uno thirty-four consecutive times in a row. This was why Kong saved and _bought_ Skip a cinnamon roll from that Bakery on 5th Avenue. This was why Skip died, and Shorter just _had_ to come home even though he couldn’t. This was why Eiji was a member of the gang—no—this is why all of them were.

     Love.

     The thought made Kong’s face feel warm, his heart beat faster, but it felt right. He’d never say it out loud, of course. But he’d keep it, his secret, his truth, tight in his chest.

     Maybe that’s what being a gang, really was. Or was supposed to be, anyway.

     Regardless, they were damn lucky to have found each other.


End file.
